


The Mule King

by Mr_Dubious



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Bigotry & Prejudice, Gritty, Realistic, Social Issues, allcommentswelcome, avaiabletosuggestions, dm'ingencouraged, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23146354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Dubious/pseuds/Mr_Dubious
Summary: 18 years passed since the Peace of Xadia. Both the Magical and the Natural arts are being explored to their limits and this is just the right opportunity for the young naturalist Marcel to both establish himself in the field and disprove his master's horrific theories, but, what will start with a simple and amicable scientific surveying in the bosom of the Royal Katolian family will have consequences far reaching just the circles of wise men and women.





	1. Chapter 1

Thunder. The sky sundered and was made into a thousand burning pieces. The rain on the ship seemed to have the intention of swallowing the whole tripulation into a unholy kiss with the ocean. To the Sky primordial source, mattered little the peace or the war between men, elven or dragon, when it intended to transform a tranquil sea travel of naturalists, botanists and wisemen, it did without warning, mercy or reason. In a sideroom of the captains lodgings, a young man fervers in mad dreams. To a Katolish milquetoast, the hot, humid and virulent airs of the Ghalapash islands were knifes on his throat the whole travel and, just now, in the midst of chaos, were reaching for his life. The boy shivers and convulses in a dance of memory :  
"Master Wallace, I-I brought all the manuscripts and reports avaiable on Xadian exotic bothanics I could lay my fingers on. I hope this suffices..."  
"You truly excel in serving me and the fields of natural philosophy, even sometimes to the cost of your safety, boy."  
"You're a rare breed of student, Marcel. Where I've seen many fall from my tutoring by weakness or the whims of their vanity, you stood true for knowledge, here..."  
The time striken scientist said all of this while calmly approaching Marcel's nostrils with his finger, stopping the worst from happening to the pile of dusty tomes. Even his short, stocky frame, reminiscent of a farm lad had trouble handling the legacy of tens of lifes of dedicated men and women, forgotten by everyone in the Five Kingdoms in favor of the Dark Arts, only to be brought to light , once again, by King Callum and his envisioning of a society where all types of knowledge prevail. And, as such there were masters of the Dark Arts and the Nature Arts, like His Majesty himself, prodigies of the Natural Knowledge arose to the world. Wallace Ratzel was of such men. And, as with knights, who can't get to battle without their humble and loyal squires, Professor Ratzel had Marcel, his most estimated pupil, although the compliment "estimated", at least with their dynamic, did not block them of ruffles.   
The pair, after some organizing and shuffling of scrolls stood, each on their side of a long library table, in a complacent silence. There had to be silence.  
"By the love of Lady Justice, Marcel, I can't help myself but point how atrociously straining it is to deal with the stupidity of those Neolandian brutes !!!"  
"Had it not been for the horrible book storing of that buffoon Maryanee, we could have had HOURS of efficient time handed to us !"  
"Sometimes I wish they all dragged their sun-burnt faces back to that hell hole of theirs to eat sand for the rest of their miserable..."  
The boy couldn't contain himself and halted his teachers vitriolic speech with a loud book slamming sound.  
"She's starting just now and is not a buffon nor anything that you are that you say she or her people are !!!"  
"..."  
"..."  
"You know, if it was not for my outstanding professionalism and rationale, you wouldnt have half the opportunities to be disrespecting me and would be back to wherever you came from with no gratification whatsoever, correct ?"  
"I respect your work and the field you stand for, but I won't respect the disgusting excuse of a man you are !"  
"So, it is settled. Since we agree that the only common ground for the resolving of our disputes is the field of knowledge, let Truth prevail ! I'll board you to the first ship to Ghalapash."  
"There you write reports on how the effect of Natural Exclusion works selecting the most intellectually equipped creatures, then, you sail to the capital just in time for the arrival of the Neolandian comitive, it is then where your foolish tolerance and my good sense will clash and..."  
"And then what ?!"  
"And then you'll measure their skulls and compare to the royal family's. Size, shape, proportions. The closest to primal beasts, the less developed."  
"This will be your last thesis. Then you'll need not to associate with me."  
"But I don't even subscribe wholly to that thesis. It's absurd and..."  
"Are you afraid ?"  
"I'll do it just to shut your mouth, your old pig."  
"So be it, then."  
The young man hastly walked and pushed the large doors angrily, leaving his master with a disappointed frown. The rest of the dreams were random madness, unworthy of note. All after that entered his memories were the desperate screams of sailors, him being carried by then, him being hurled on a boat along with heavy crates of embalmed specimens and books, and him laying in a humble strangers bed, hearing someone go about the miraculous nature of his and the few sailors survival.  
"Are you fine, young bud ? Hard days night, am I right ? Even after the shipwreck you were still boiling enough with crimson fever to dry that ocean. Can you make sense of what I'm saying or you're still dizzie, eh ?"  
The rugged dock porter said that in his unrefined manner while waving two of his fingers in the air, as if about to ask how many there were. By the state Marcel still was, his vision would surely accuse the presence of a waving elf hand, but his rationale was preserved enough to tailor a decent answer.  
"I am just fine, kind sir. My family shall return your favor in due time. Shall I adress the receiving box in the bank of Katolys or..."  
"No, no, me boy ! You're the one from that smart pantsy people expedition the folk so much be talkin' about 'round dis parts, arentcha ? Then I'm glad be servin' we mankin' !"  
"Oh, thats all so lovely of you. Well I guess I might be leaving now. Sorry for the lack of courtesy, Our Majesty Callum awaits and..."  
"Nah ! Me boy, its raining cats and frogs out there, there be a carriage for ya coming just righ..."  
The sounds of hoofs splattering the rain and crangling wheels invaded the room of the shack they were in.  
"Talkin' 'bout the devil !"  
Both of them head to the door. A Katolyan soldier, stern, constant and lugubrious like sent as an apostle of the rain itself, unfazed by the soaking spills of water announces :  
"By the orders of Our Majesty King Callum, first of His name, we come to transport and assist the pupil of the great natural philosopher Sir Wallace Ratzel, Marcel von Berlinchingen, to the safety and comfort of the castle of the capital of Katholis."  
"I don't know in how many parts this configures itself as a invitation or a intimation, but I guess I'll have to do my duty anyways. Farewell, mister."  
Marcel tosses a silver coin from his satchel, falling clumsily into the flabbergastened hands of the poor porter. His tears covered by spills of rain.   
In no more than an hour and half, the rushed stallions conduct Marcel and his protectors to the gates of the castle. Slow wooden behemoths they are, made to handle the fury of a thousand ravenous Xadian soldiers and their siege weapons, its only natural to wait a modest time for them to let the carriages and steeds go by. Clinically eyed as the crafts makes him be, Marcel scans the surroundings for interesting sights to take the angry clouds away from his mind. Strangely enough, his still dizzing eyes see not one but two figures approaching the gates from a considerable distance: one, armored in its totality and shrouded by a solemnly dark hood and another, smaller one, cowering in the protection of the first ones shield, like a little hatchling in the goose's wing. Although the circunstances, the more the two approach the gates, the more Marcel discerns a happily relaxed conversation, like two children playing in the rain. The strong weather didn't take the sunshine away from their demeanors. Marcel lowers the small colored glass pane in the window to peek better at the duo.   
"Hullo, sir !!!"  
"Aye, strange lad ! What brings you here ?"  
  


End of chapter 1 part 1


	2. Chapter 2

After coming forth to Marcels sharper distance of sight, behold, for the two former blurs were anything but what the young scientists mind had conjured: the smaller figure, standing up, was that of a lad no older than him, perhaps younger by a negletable margin, but definitely taller. Although overcoming Marcels height was no merit in itself, the pubescent youngster before him was of a slight but remarkable towering stature and sported a rather languid and frail frame, exulding a noticeably somber impression. His countenance was of a temperate beauty and a melancholic spirit, much exaggerated by the pouring rain.

The boy had well kept locks of a jovial brown of such care that could be distinguished even under the deluge they were in. But, to the keen observer on the carriage, such strokes of charming and awe striking looks would have been incomplete in the figure without a most elusive trait of his: the most of silver hair strands, glimmering and thin, coming from his front scalp were graciously landed over the youngling’s face and chin at that moment. A vision like that was sure a mystifying sight, a remembrance of the recent past of fearsome Dark Mages and their practices. Marcel could not tell there in which measure was he making actual deduction or foolish fantasies about the young man’s life.

But, alas ! Thus as if the vision of such a elegant lad was not sufficient of a sight to the carriage’s passenger, there stood beside the soaked youngster… A Moonshadow Elf ! Yes, indeed a moonshadow elf. A mature but still young lady clad in light, but not by any means inefficient, armor in all of her surfaces but the head and face, where there was glad receiving of the falling drops. She protected the until then crounching boy with her shield as both of them were departing to the castle from a merry stride. Marcel only heard of such exotic folk from the numerous novellas he had the custom to read and the fabulous stories and songs of King Callum’s heroic voyage to deliver Azymundias, the prince of dragons, back to his home. Words tried to struggle out of Wallace’s pupil’s lips but failed so given the extraordinary nature of such moment. The elven woman cared not to await for an answer and replied in her exquisite foreign dialect, barely containing her laughter at the confused guest :

“’Oot ya lookin at, boy ? Never seem a moonshadow gal befor’ ? Or even a girl at all ? ”

The young protectee of her shield interjected in a light, half reprehensive manner at the jocose jab:

“Auntie, I wouldn’t be keen on the notion of extracting a laugh off of a person who clearly seems to be the castle’s guest. I know courtly manners aren’t really expected of the royal guards captain all the time but...Well, we shall amend this later, the gates are opening, lets not wet ourselves more than that. Goodbye, mister ! ”

Marcel’s gaping expression was cut abruptly by the inertia of the sprinting carriage, which advanced towards the inner patio of the building. Briefly, he was scheduled to see his lodgings and eventually present himself to His Majesty in person, even more so for the delicate situation he not so long ago was into.

Thinking retrospectively, Marcel could not forget the politeness and behavior the long haired young man presented towards him, even amidst the undignifying situation of the whipping rainstorm that still punished the capital of Katolys and showed no signs of milding for the rest of the day. As the stalwart guards made their escorting in the direction of one of the many guest rooms, the young naturalist was left to his own thoughts. Was that elven woman he gazed upon earlier the actual royal guard captain ? What made the youngster so important of a figure as to have a official protect him on a leisure stride ?

The maddening array of thoughts and emotions was once more cut short: yet another guard knocked upon his door handle to announce the proximity of the private audience with the monarch and the need of a appropriate attire for such occurrence. Marcel was forced by the situation to resort to clothing he personally wouldn’t wear out of a strong opinion on the bad taste employed on it’s design. The aristocratic garbs didn’t spark any positive emotions on him, despite Marcel being of such origins. There was a heavy tint of artificiality he couldn’t muster off, but such were the pains of the craft, it seemed as so for him. In a modest amount of time, the scientist was on his feet for the meeting.

He could hear the same cadenced and mechanical rhythm of guard boots on the hard floor of the castle approaching his lodgings as his preparations were just set for the first encounter in an almost clockwork manner. The thoughts on Marcel’s mind were like devilish will o’ wisps raging in a unholy mixture of awe, euphoria and anxiety. But he knew he had no time to entertain such state of mind. The thoughts of a natural philosopher, hellbent on reason and logic, needed to be the new beacon of light for this new world he knew would come. While the old world was governed by reckless force, superstition and the dangerous art of magic, the world men like him and Wallace were building was one of rational discipline, reason and science. His practical study debunking Ratzel’s thesis allied with the wonders of the natural world he was to present to the court would convince even the most adept of natural magicians such as king Callum to the righteous cause of rational investigation.

“His Majesty Callum awaits”

“Are my specimens readied ?”

“Y-yes, they are, I believe so”

Marcel couldn’t even ascertain if the guard knew what “specimens” meant, but he had in good faith that there were people capable of handling his materials with a decent enough level of competence on the court, as the monarch wasn’t at all unfamiliar with promoting knowledge.

Words flew through his mind, blood pumped around his body and his escorted steps guided him to his final destination. The doors to the throne room opened themselves to reveal a firm and bearded king on a solemn but complacent sitting pose and, formally positioned to his side, to Marcel’s jarring surprise…

“I wasn’t truly expecting you to come in such honors and garb over here. Certainly my first impression over the castle’s entrance might not have been the best. ”


End file.
